Out of A Time Lord's Mind
by Callista Adderwell
Summary: A/U Every night, John Smith dreams he's the Doctor. But soon the characters from his dreams seem to be appearing in his everyday life. Is John going mad? I will include as many characters and references as I can. Rated T, because I'm afraid of making it too low. This is an eleventh doctor John Smith. Reviews/criticism/ideas welcome.
1. Chapter 1: Waking Up

"You see, my sonic screwdriver has a setting for that, so it was very easy for me to hack into your system… and send your ship heading back towards your home planet." The Doctor said gallantly. "I'm sure they'll be happy to see you, I'm sure they have a lovely jail cell set up for their traitors."

With the flick of a switch, the Doctor turned the monitor off and went back to his lovely TARDIS' controls. He flipped a few more switches elegantly, pumped the pinball machine and took a seat, letting the TARDIS do what it did best.

"Where to now?" He smirked to himself. Suddenly, the TARDIS rocked to one side, as if something had hit it. He jumped to his feet ready for action.

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

The TARDIS faded away and now John Smith found himself looking into the blackness of closed eyes. He groaned and his lanky arm shot out from under his soft, warm blanket desperately trying to find the snooze button on his alarm clock. He groaned as his hand searched and searched.

"For Christ's sake!" He growled angrily and rose from under his covers, revealing his bed head and the shadows under his eyes. "I just wanted one more bloody minute of sleep!"

He slammed his hand down so hard on the defenseless alarm clock that it fell to the floor. He groaned again and slid out of bed. John picked up his clock and then went over to his window. He opened the blinds and immediately shielded his eyes from the blinding light. The blinds were then closed again, and the mold, which he of course hadn't noticed starting to grow, around the corner of his room silently rejoiced.

John Smith rubbed the sleep from his eyes and walked over to his dresser, maneuvering around the dirty t-shirts that littered the floor. On the dresser sat an expensive leather bound journal, it was old and worn, he'd had it for many years now. He'd bought it a while ago at a flea market, wondering how such a beautiful antique had ended up with so much rubbish. John had bought it with the last of his money and then, of course, it had started to rain… well more like pour. He'd ran back to his flat, utterly drenched by the time he'd gotten inside, but the journal had remained dry in his inner pocket.

For a while he hadn't written anything in it. Absolutely nothing. He wasn't much of an author, so a novel was out of the question. And nothing exciting ever seemed to happen to him. Nothing at all. That was, except for his dreams. Now those were remarkable. He'd been having them for so long, that he couldn't even remember when they'd started.

Nearly every night, when he drifted off to sleep he was transported into the body of The Doctor. A timelord from some place called Gallifrey. Except, now he was the last one, because he'd had to kill off the rest of his race. So, now he just traveled around through space and time in his TARDIS (Time And Relative Dimension In Space), usually with a companion, who (John noticed) was almost always a pretty girl.

John liked these dreams, more than that though, he loved them. Every night he became almost like a superhero, always saying the right thing and saving the day. It was perfection, considering John was a dreadfully average bloke (even his name was average, John Smith, possibly the least exciting name ever). Sometimes John didn't even want to wake up in the morning, but of course he always had to. Life went on.

At least he was able to keep track of his dreams. He'd started writing them down, as soon as he got up in the morning they went straight into his journal, so he wouldn't forget them. Sometimes before he went to sleep at night, he'd just sit up reading them. It usually depressed him to do so. After all, he'd never be The Doctor, he'd always be the very average, very human John Smith.

He scribbled down the last of the previous night's dream and set to picking out clothes for the day. He glanced at the clock. 8:30am. Oh god! He realized. He was supposed meet his friend Craig for breakfast in fifteen minutes at the café down the block.

He pulled on a pair of black trousers that were slightly to short for him. He scanned the floor for a suitable shirt to wear. The first thing he saw was a button down shirt that still had an undone bowtie under the collar. Why'd I ever buy a bowtie? He shook his head as he picked up the shirt. Then he spotted a t-shirt that didn't look to used on the ground and threw the other shirt back.

Minutes later, he was dressed and had brushed his teeth. With the precision of someone who's done something hundreds of times before, he expertly combed his hair so that it became the perfect shape, combed carefully on one side and on the other side of the part a long flop of hair.

John grabbed his messenger bag and a jacket hanging over a chair and ran down the stairs of the apartment building. He flew out the door and skidded to a stop in time to turn right and not go running into the street, where cars went by dangerously fast. He ran as fast as his lanky legs would carry him and his jacket billowed in the breeze behind him as he attempted to put it on as he ran, it was after all a rather chilly day and the clouds covered the sun. He was surprisingly agile for someone so lanky and thus was able to glide around people on the crowded streets.

He saw the café coming up and checked his watch. Three minutes before he was late. John saw Craig, turned mostly away from him,waiting outside the café checking his own watch. John slowed down as he neared the establishment.

"Hey!" He called waving to his friend.

Craig turned and smiled warmly at him. Now that he was facing John, John saw that Craig was carrying his infant son, whose name John couldn't remember. John's friendly smile fell as he saw this. Craig had gotten married some time back to his longtime girlfriend Sophie and they'd had a child. It hadn't really mattered to John; at least that's what he kept telling himself. He'd gone to Craig's wedding and it had been nice, but John couldn't help but feel a bit jealous. He kept feeling that there was some woman missing from his life. Seeing Craig with his kid just reminded John of that jealousy.

He walked up to Craig and tried to put on a false smile. "Hey."

"Good to see you mate!" Craig bellowed like he hadn't seen John in forever. Craig was a rather big guy, but not height wise. He had dirty blonde hair neatly combed back and was in a button down shirt and trousers. The shirt had dots of either baby food or baby vomit, John couldn't tell which. "Man feels like forever since we met up, you know just the two of us."

"Not that long." John replied sheepishly. "And not just the two of us." He nodded towards the little bundle of joy in Craig's arms.

"Oh yeah!" Craig said smacking himself in the forehead with his free arm. "I swear I forgot entirely he was here. Some father I am."

He laughed, but when he saw that John hadn't shared in his laughter. He said. "Look I'm sorry man, but Sophie's working early today and it's not like I could find a sitter for like eight in the morning. He'll be quiet I'm sure. Not a peep out of him."

John sighed. He knew that it wasn't Craig's fault that he'd had to bring his baby along. "What's his name again?"

"Alfie." Craig responded proudly.

"Stormageddon." John mumbled.

"What was that?" Craig asked.

"Nothing, just he looks more like a Stormageddon to me." John shrugged.

Craig laughed and rubbed Alfie's cheek. "Stormageddon? What kind of a name is that for a baby?" Alfie smiled as his daddy said Stormageddon. "Any way let's go inside. I'm starving."

They entered the café.


	2. Chapter 2: Hello

Fifteen minutes later they were both sitting comfortably at a booth in the quaint café with little Alfie in a high chair on the side of the table. John played with the remainder of his scrambled eggs, while Craig struggled to get Alfie to eat his baby food.

"So how's your job, Craig?" John asked absentmindedly.

"Oh, it's fine…" Craig gave some kind of answer, but John was only half listening. He happened to be in between jobs right now and didn't really want to listen to Craig talk about his, but he'd felt it was only right to ask.

He was looking straight at his friend, but was really looking through the open window behind him. The traffic had slowed, so that only a few cars were going by now. Since weather was turning sour outside, the volume of people walking the streets had also decreased.

BANG! CRASH!

Everyone in the café turned their heads towards a waiter who had fallen and the plates he'd been carrying along with him. The poor waiter was being helped up by another waiter and he was looking quite red with embarrassment.

John felt bad for the man and turned his head back towards Craig. That's when he saw it. Through the window and across the street, was that a police box? Had that been there a second ago? "What the…" He said involuntarily.

"What?" Craig saw his gaze and turned, obstructing John's view of the box. When Craig turned back and John could see out the window again the blue police box was gone.

"I just… I just though I saw something," John said his voice shaking. "… From a dream." He shook his head trying to shake off the feeling that he was crazy.

"You mean like those one's you sometimes told me about?" Craig asked.

John had told Craig about some of the dreams he had, but he'd never mentioned how often he had them. "Yeah."

"You still writing them down? You know, because those were pretty good stories." Craig wiped some dribble off of Alfie. ""You ought to try and get those published or something."

"No one would ever read them." John shook his head. He'd only let Craig read a few of the dreams and he didn't really want the rest of the world to read them.

"You and I both know that's not true!" Craig protested. "Besides it'd at least be a decent source of money."

Craig knew very well about John's employment issue and how tight money was for him. Craig had said that if a job ever opened up at his office he'd call John, but none seemed to be opening anytime soon.

"What're you doing about money now anyway?"

John sighed. "I'm probably going to move out. Rent's due soon and I can just pay it, but after that nope. No way I can. I've either got to find a job, and let's face it that's not happening, or I've got to find a cheaper place to live."

"What if you came to live with me, Sophie and Alfie?" Craig offered.

"I don't want to impose. Besides you guys are a family, you need to live like one. I couldn't really pay you either."

Craig shook his head and signaled the waiter for a check. "We've got a spare room. I know Sophie wouldn't mind. You help with some shopping, do a little cooking and cleaning and there you go you pull your weight. Come on, you'd be our lodger."

"I'll think about it." John said filing the idea away in his head as a last resort.

The two friends parted ways and John walked all the way back to his flat in the growing cold. He wondered if it would snow. It was December after all. He kept a look out for that blue police box the whole way back, but he didn't see anything.

He ignored the odd noises coming from other flat's as he walked up the stairs to his own floor, two steps at a time. He didn't know what he'd do with himself today, probably look through the employment ads. He spotted a note attached to his door, as he approached it and prayed that it wasn't an eviction notice.

John snatched the note off the door and saw that written in a long elegant print were the words "Hello Sweetie." He crumpled the note up and went into his flat, muttering. "Must be the crazy old woman from upstairs." Under his breath.

Inside his flat, John picked up a newspaper from his table and flipped to the classifieds. Each job seemed to require past experience or some kind of degree, neither of which he recalled having. But hadn't he gone to school? Hadn't he? He wasn't sure. He thought he had. He'd gone to school in Gallifrey right? Gallifrey! Oh god, he thought, now my dreams are invading my real life too. As much as he wanted to be the Doctor, he really didn't want to be crazy.

He ignored this odd lapse in memory and continued looking through the classifieds. Eventually he came to an ad looking for someone to be a cashier at a local bookstore, not five blocks away. No experience was required, just the ability to work a cash register and preferably a love of books.

"Even I can do that."He smiled. "I love a good book and I could sure use the cash."

That settled it, he quickly jotted down the stores address and who he should talk to and made a b-line for the door, but before he could leave he looked down at what he was wearing. The trousers might be okay, but a t-shirt didn't exactly scream job interview. John ran into his room, not wanting to waste another second, and scanned the ground for something he could wear that wasn't a dirty t-shirt. He sighed when he realized the only thing almost presentable was his button down shirt and that bowtie.

"Whatever." He grumbled and pulled off his t-shirt, replacing it with the button down.

Moments later, he ran out his front door again, attempting to tie his red bowtie as he ran. "Taxi!" He cried as he approached the street. Luckily, one saw him and he rushed inside.

The Library was a quaint little bookshop sitting in between a jewelry store and an overpriced coffee shop. It's window display held at least fifty books and it had welcoming signs attached to the front door. It looked like a friendly enough place. John gave the place a quick once over before realizing that he didn't have many other options and walking inside.

It actually appeared bigger on the inside. The walls were lined with tall bookshelves crammed to their maximum capacity with all kinds of books, ranging from new hardcover s to ancient looking tombs. The color scheme was all very bright, giving the shop a warm and friendly atmosphere. John thought it didn't look like too bad a place to work, that was if he got the job.

He strolled calmly up to the counter, where a young woman with an insane amount of black hair piled high atop her head sat reading. Looking down and realizing that he was dressed like an absolute geek, his confidence diminished greatly.

"Hi."He said shyly.

The girl held up a finger to signify she'd be with him in a minute. Her eyes moved rapidly down the page of her book and a moment later she'd jabbed her bookmark onto the proper page, had slammed her book down on the counter and was now giving him her full and undivided attention.

She was a bit older than him, but still very youthful looking. Her eyes were extraordinarily pale and her skin was of the same kind of shade, only her immense amount of black hair stood out. She was pretty though, in a wild and adventurous sort of way. There was something about her that John liked, he couldn't put his finger on it what it was. Maybe, it was feeling that he got that she was kind of crazy and willing to go anywhere and do anything and maybe that she'd stick by you no matter what. Whatever it was, it made him feel like he wanted to steal her away right then and there.

"Can I help you?" She said in an intelligent and yet also distracted voice.

John shook himself out of his thoughts. "Yes. I'm here about the job. The ad in the paper said to see Idris."

"That's me." The woman smiled kindly at him. "I'm the owner of this little gateway into other lands."

John smiled warily. "I'd like to become a new adventurer into those other lands."

She laughed. "Play along. Nice way to make a good impression. Okay, anyway let me just get someone to cover the counter." She turned towards a back room and yelled. "Uncle! Could you come here and watch the counter. I'm going to interview somebody for the job!"

An older man stumbled out of the back room. He looked as if somebody had taken body parts from tons of different people and put them together to make him. "Okay Idris, I'm here. I'm here."

"Great. Follow me. "Idris ushered John into the back room.

The back was a cramped little room filled with cardboard boxes full of more books. There were two plastic folding chairs, which basically took up all of the unused floor space. The room was not particularly well lit as one of the two bulbs on the ceiling had gone out.

"Sorry," Idris apologized. ", this place is pretty old. Unfortunately, we can't even fix the lighting, it's got something to do with a circuit of some kind. Or something."

"Really it's not a problem. It gives the place a certain charm." John spoke the truth too, he wasn't just saying that to impress Idris.

"Good answer." She gave him another smile. He felt himself drawn to it, as if it suggested that there was so much more to her than what met the eye. Like, she'd been places, done things and seen so many people that her body could only give hints as to all the fantastic things she'd done her entire life.

"Okay. First question, do you have a criminal record?"

"No." Not as far as he knew anyway.

"Did you bring a resume?" She asked her hand outstretched.

John groaned, of course he'd forgotten a resume. "Eh… no."

Her arm pulled back slowly. "That's okay. It's no like I'm asking you to become a CEO or anything."

"I'm sorry." He mumbled and silently fumed.

"Not a problem." She replied, noticing how upset he was. "Why do you want to work here?"

"I absolutely love books." He answered without missing a beat.

She gave him a skeptical look. "Okay, really, why do you want to work here?"

"I REALLY REALLY need a job and some money." He said frankly. It was better to just be honest.

"That's better. Next, do you like books?"

"Yes." He really did.

Idris nodded. "Good. Can you work six days a week?" She looked around cautiously as if somebody might be listening in. "Uncle's a little, how do I put it nicely, senile, so I could use someone with a good head on their shoulders."

"I can definitely work six days a week." John nodded. "Is he really your uncle?"

"No, it's just a nickname." She looked him over, he'd never felt more self conscious in his life. "Bowties are cool."

"Yeah I know." He lied.

"How long can you work? Does nine to six, with Saturday off sound good? I can pay you nine twenty and hour."

John thought about it for a second. "Sounds fantastic. When would you like me to start?"

Now it was her turn to think. "Tomorrow?"

He nodded vigorously. Getting to see her again and come back here felt like it was becoming more and more important.

She stood up and shot him a smile. "Great."

Idris walked him out to the front. "Uncle, this is… oh wow, I'm sorry I didn't even ask you your name."

"John Smith." John answered.

Idris nodded her approval. "This is John Smith. He's our new cashier, he starts tomorrow so you don't have to come in."

Uncle gave John an absentminded look and turned back to hitting buttons on the cash register. Yikes. John thought. No wonder she wanted to hire someone else.

"Right. See you tomorrow at nine." John started making his way out.

"Wait."Idris called just as John had reached the door. He turned back to face her. "There's just something I wanted to say… hello. Hello, John Smith."


	3. Chapter 3: A Strange Walk Home

**Apologies that this is so short. This was just an in between point in the story.**

John walked home with a blissful expression on his face. The cold and the wind didn't bother him. The crowded streets and the noisy traffic didn't annoy him. All he thought of was his new job… and Idris. There was something about her that he couldn't quite put his finger on. It made him want to run away with her. To steal her away and travel with her, he thought she'd like that. She seemed like the adventurous type.

Suddenly, he found himself flat on his back on the sidewalk, his back stinging. He sat up and winced, as pain coursed through his spine. A woman, far older than he, with long curly blonde hair was sprawled across the ground across from him.

Immediately, he realized what must have happened. He'd been stupid to be walking around so mindlessly with his head in the clouds. He put his hand out towards her. "I'm sorry; I wasn't looking where I was going." She took his hand and they both stood up. "Are you all right?"

She smiled at him lovingly. Her eyes quickly examined him, making sure he too was all right, he assumed. There was something familiar about her. When she'd finished looking him over she said. "Thanks, sweetie. Glad you're okay too." And promptly ran off.

"River." Was the first word out of his mouth and he didn't know why. River? What river? He was in the middle of London, there was no river. Why had he thought of that? Then, he remembered something from his dreams. "River Song."

The Doctor's wife… well sort of. Right? The dreams faded so fast after he wrote them down, during the day they were only distant memories and then the next morning they'd be barely more than dust in the wind, replaced by new dreams.

"Get a grip." He told himself quietly. "They're dreams. Silly, stupid dreams. You're in the real world, for god's sake. Just get home."

He shuffled off without looking back. He couldn't, just in case she was there. He hurried back to his flat as quickly as possible, but even so within those few blocks he managed to think that he'd seen a blue police box five times. Each time it seemed to be there, waiting… for him.


	4. Chapter 4: The First Day At Work

John woke up to his alarm the next morning, but instead of an annoying beeping noise, it sounded like a vworp vworp. He slammed his fist down hard onto the unfortunate clock, breaking it in the process. His head ached and all he wanted to do was go back to sleep. And he would have, except he was supposed to work today. It was his first day on the job and even he knew that it looked bad to not be able to come in on your first day.

So, he dragged himself out of bed and into the shower. The warm water helped wake him up and his headache had turned to a dull throbbing. He could deal with it. He dressed quickly and was about to run out the door when he remembered that he hadn't written down his dream from the night before. Quickly, he grabbed the journal and hurried out the door and towards the book shop.

He reached the shop just as Idris was unlocking the front door. "Good morning." He said approaching her from behind. She jumped at the sudden sound and dropped her keys. With reflexes that he didn't know he had, he caught them just before they touched the ground. He popped back up and said. "I believe these are yours."

"Thanks." She smiled at him and unlocked the entrance.

With a flick of the switch, the lights sprang to life. Idris dropped her purse behind the counter and turned to John.

"I'm getting some orders in today. I thought you could stack them on the shelves. I'll show you where each section is." She ushered him to one of the bookshelves.

For the next half hour, Idris showed John where all of the books went. It was a logical and orderly system, but John found himself asking her to repeat things. He was staring at her quite a lot, he realized and not actually hearing what she was saying. His head still hurt, in fact, it seemed to hurt more the closer he got to Idris, but not only did it look bad to back away from your employer, he also didn't want to. He decided that he'd have to just suffer through it.

"Got it?" Idris asked smiling sweetly, after finishing her grand tour.

John smiled back, even though he felt like throwing up. "Yes." He lied. He really hadn't gotten much of what she'd said, but stacking shelves couldn't be that hard could it?

"Great," She stood up. ", then I've got some boxes in back could you get those."

"It'd be my pleasure."John nearly tripped as he made his way to the back. His lanky limbs seemed to making him even clumsier than usual today. He shook of his clumsy feeling and grabbed the boxes.

The next few hours went by quietly, without much excitement. Idris actually stepped out for a bit and, although John hated to admit it, it was the only moment where he could actually think clearly.

"I must be coming down with something." He kept telling himself. "Once I get home, I am going to fall into bed."

He was just figuring out where some science fiction books went, when the bell on the door started to jingle and he turned to see who was entering the shop. A new energy filled the dreary shop as a young girl with beautiful red hair, a pale round face and long legs entered the shop. She smiled, full of youthful life and energy, and faced the door as it opened again.

The girls face lit up as a man, about her age, entered. He had round eyes, a short haircut and a protruding nose. He was dressed in scrubs and shuffled in shyly. He took her hand and John couldn't help but think that there was an interesting contrast between their personalities. However, the love between them was evident.

"Amy. Rory." He whispered and immediately ducked back down behind some shelves. What was wrong with him? He didn't even know these people. Amy and Rory? Where had that come from?

His headache began to act up again; John rubbed his temples in an effort to relieve some pain. It was entirely ineffective.

"Hello?" The girl called out to the seemingly empty store in a Scottish accent. "Is anyone there?"

"I don't think anybody's here." Her boyfriend said gently. "Let's go."

"They wouldn't just leave the door open, stupid." She let go of his hand and began strolling towards the back, where John was bending down, hiding.

John's forehead was actually getting moist. He felt sick. His head was aching, his body felt like it was burning and the closer this girl got to him the more his head…

"Hello?" She interrupted his thoughts. Slowly, he looked up and found her staring back down at him. "Umm… hi, do you work here? It's just my boyfriend and I…"

"Yes, I work here." John interrupted, standing up awkwardly. _Oh no!_ He thought. The room was spinning. "What… what do you need?" He was stammering now. He couldn't think, he could barely breathe. _AMY! AMY! AMY! _The name kept relaying in his mind, being screamed louder and louder! It was driving him mad.

He supported himself on a bookshelf as he stood. The girls red hair seemed to glitter in the light, causing painful flashes in John's eyes. He rubbed them vigorously. "I'm sorry." John apologized. "How can I help you?"

"We're looking for a book."The girl said.

Big surprise, John thought. He was about to tell her that the shop was full of those, when Idris reentered the store. In that moment, something in John's head snapped. His eyes turned from face to face to face, all staring at him blankly. They were so familiar, yet he couldn't remember from where. His chest heaved as he tried to take deep breaths, feeling as if he couldn't get any air down his lungs. Just when it was getting to be unbearable, John gave up. He didn't fight it anymore. He fainted. His body fell to the ground with a thud.

"Oh my god!" The redhead's boyfriend cried. "Out of the way! I'm a nurse!"  
He ran over to John's side and propped him up against a wall. Then, he immediately checked that John's airways were clear and that he was breathing. He had a shallow breath. His pulse was also weak. "Call an ambulance!"

Idris stood there in shock for a moment, but then ran into the back and grabbed the phone hanging on the wall.

"What happened?" The red-head asked bending down next to her boyfriend.

He shook his head. "I don't know, Amy. Keep calm, alright? He's breathing and he's got a pulse."

"But he was just standing there." She said stupefied by what had occurred.

The ambulance arrived a few minutes later. The paramedics hauled off John's body.


	5. Chapter 5: A Visit To The Doctors

**Apologizes for not posting this sooner, but here it is now. Thanks to everyone who kept coming back to read! Really, thank you!**

John's sleep was not a peaceful one, dreams after fainting never are. It was like his mind was the center of a star going supernova. Images flashed on and off in his mind, colors were blindingly bright and it was as if everything was shaking. He saw what he somehow knew to be a TARDIS, flying through space. The image jumped to the controls and he saw his hands playing with them. Next people's faces flashed before his eyes, mostly pretty young girls. Their faces went by so fast that he couldn't even recognize them. He was getting dizzy inside of his own head.

His upper body flew forward as he jumped into consciousness. It was only after a moment that he realized he was screaming. John forced himself to be quiet.

A quick survey of his surroundings told him that he was in a hospital and an attempt to move his arm told him that he was attached to a heart monitor and an IV. What had happened to him? He tried to remember. He'd been in Idris' shop. Stacking books. The girl! The redhead and her boyfriend. His head hurt just thinking about it.

He decided to let it go for now. Relax, he told himself.

Just then a pretty young woman walked into the room. She had flawless dark skin and beautiful hair. She wore a doctor's coat and a worried expression. "Your awake," She breathed. ", we didn't expect you to wake up so soon, Mr. Smith."

"Neither did I." He answered. His head was beginning to hurt again, but it was just a dull throbbing.

"Right. Well, I'm Doctor Jones." She said walking over to his bed and taking a look at his chart. A confused look came over her pretty face, but she brushed it aside and turned to him. "We've heard from everyone else what happened, so I'd like to ask you, Mr. Smith. That is if you feel up to it."

John shimmied to get comfortable on the uncomfortable hospital bed. When he'd finally found a suitable position, he stated. "I'm up to it."

"Do you remember what happened?" She asked, giving him her full attention.

John thought for a moment. "I was at the bookstore, stacking books. A couple came in. They were… they were… they were…" His hands began to shake uncontrollably. He kept repeating, "They were… " over and over again. Whatever words came after that he couldn't find.

"It's okay." Doctor Jones said putting her smooth skinned hand on his. "I can tell you."

John gulped back the words and began taking deep breaths. Soon his hands stopped shaking. "I'm sorry. I don't know what just happened."

"Don't apologize. It's very common to not remember what happened just before a fainting episode." She said smiling comfortingly.

"It's not that." He said looking down at his now calm hands. "I think… I think I know I fainted. It's the couple that I saw. There was something about them."

"Do you know what that was?" John noticed that she was taking notes on a clipboard. He didn't answer. "Take your time."

"No." John said plainly. "I don't know."

"That's okay. Don't strain yourself. You've been through a traumatic experience."

"I guess." John shrugged. He didn't know how he was supposed to feel, but he did know that he felt like cement was being poured into his head and it was becoming heavy. He leaned back against the way too soft hospital pillows.

"You don't seem to have a fever and the tests don't show anything abnormal."

John thought for a moment. "What are the names of that couple?" He asked. "I'm curious."

"Their names?" Doctor Jones seemed surprised at his question. She looked down at her clipboard and read. "Amelia and Rory Williams."

As soon as Dr. Jones had gotten the names out, John gagged and flung back against the mattress in a wave of convulsions. He grabbed at his head, which now felt like it was being torn apart. A stream of lightning like pain zipped up his spine and he saw stars. "Please help." He managed to get out, despite his gagging.

To her credit, Doctor Jones jumped into action. Thinking that John was having a seizure, she got him onto his side and moved away any objects that were close to his bed. "Nurse! Doctor! Anyone!" She called, hoping that someone happened to be passing by outside the room.

She was lucky and a nurse came rushing in. "Doctor Jones? What's going on?"

"Mr. Smith seems have had a seizure." She answered calmly, noticing that John had stopped convulsing and seemed to be on the verge of consciousness. "Take note, please, the seizure lasted about twenty seconds. Can you put down that information on his records please and check if he has a history of seizures? I didn't think he did, but just in case."

"Right, mum." The nurse took a copy of John's records and hurriedly copied down the notes, before scurrying off to check his file.

"Oh, and nurse..." Doctor Jones said before the nurse had left.

"Yes?"

"Could you see if he has any family? I thought that they'd been contacted by now, but no one has shown up."

The nurse nodded and hurried off.

Doctor Jones pulled up a chair and took a seat beside John's bed. His face was paler than before and he was visibly disheveled. His mop of hair covered his face; she gently pushed it back behind his ears and examined her patient.

His eyes were closed, but she didn't think he was really unconscious, resting maybe, but not unconscious. He had a kind looking face and he was good looking, she thought to herself, albeit not in a classical way. She felt bad for this man, as she did for all of her patients, but what scared her was that she was beginning to think that this was not going to be a regular case.

Martha Jones was sure that this man had never had a seizure before today, nor had he ever had a fainting spell. Why had he suddenly started? She knew that she need more test results before she could come to a conclusion, but for now the best thing to do was to sit here and wait for him to wake up.

Martha felt the icy touch of her stethoscope against her skin. She looked down at John's chest, she had unconsciously put him down with his arms away from his chest and she could easily get her stethoscope in to check his heartbeat. Something, perhaps her doctor's instinct, told her to do this.

Quietly, she took off her stethoscope and moved closer to John. She placed the stethoscope down on his pale chest and listened. She was taken aback. Surely her ears were deceiving her! Had she just heard two heartbeats? That was mad! Insane!

Martha put the stethoscope back on his chest and listened again. Surely enough, there was only one heartbeat. She gave a sigh of relief; she wasn't going crazy after all. _I better have my ears checked._ She thought to herself.

"Hear anything in there?" John's voice came weakly out of his mouth.

Dr. Jones was startled by John's voice. "Yes… yes. You've got a heart in there. One heart. Just one."

If John found Dr. Jones' comments odd, his face didn't show it. Color was beginning to come back into his cheeks and he licked his dry lips and gulped back some saliva. His throat was dry as a desert.

"Could I have some water?" He grumbled.

"I'd hook you up to an IV, but I'm not sure if you are going to have another seizure." Dr. Jones said grabbing a glass of water from the side table. She brought the cup to John's mouth and helped him drink, much to John's annoyance. "Have you ever had a seizure before?"

"I didn't realize I'd had one now." John admitted after drinking his fill.

"You mean you don't remember the last few minutes?" Martha was surprised.

"No, I remember talking to you. I remember you telling me the names and then I remember my head feeling like it was going to explode…" He trailed off and his eyes seemed to glaze over as he looked off into space. "It's been doing that a lot lately…"

"Believe me, John, it was a seizure." Dr. Jones said gravely. "I take it you've never had any before?" John shook his head.

"Martha." John breathed.

"What was that?" Doctor Jones stepped back, taken by surprise again by this man. "Did you just say my name?"

John looked surprised at her reaction. "But you told me it."

"No! No, I didn't!" Martha shook her head.

"Yes, you DID." John insisted. "You're Martha Jones. You are a doctor. You have a sister named Tish and a brother named Leo. Your mother's name is Francine."

"Well I certainly wouldn't have told you my whole life story!" Martha cried, perhaps a little too harshly.

"I'm sorry." John apologized. He seemed on the verge of tears.

"No," Martha sighed, trying to calm herself. ", I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snapped at you. It's just, how did you know those things?"

John rubbed his temples. His mind was buzzing… with excitement, with energy, with memories and knowledge that he didn't have before. He had no idea where it had come from, but somehow those two names had unleashed it. He felt better now than he had in days. These memories and this knowledge felt right, like it should be there in his head.

"I don't know." John said excitedly. He felt himself smiling uncontrollably. "I've suddenly got all of these new thoughts in my head and they weren't there before. They're something new. And knowledge too, for instance, did you know that in Barcelona, the planet not the city, there are dogs with no noses. Did you know that, because I didn't until about two minutes ago? "

"I'm sorry. What?" Martha felt her head spinning at the speed at which John Smith was speaking. He seemed like a new man all of a sudden. It was as if he'd drunken a hundred cups of coffee.

"I just realized something, Martha!" John cried, his hands shaking with excitement.

"What?" Martha asked, exasperated.

"Martha, "John Smith smiled. ", I'm the Doctor."


	6. Chapter 6: An Empty Mind

**Firstly, thank you to all of you for reading and to those who followed me. Also, thank you to **You'reHighlightingTooMuch **for the review. It really did make my day! Next, I'm sorry that this is such a small chapter, but it felt like a small scene that should be on its' own. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy. Once again, I'd really appreciate any suggestions that anyone has. Thank you. Side note, fantastic episode from Saturday.**

"You're the what?" Doctor Martha Jones exclaimed, unable to hide her astonishment.

In a matter of moments, John Smith had gone from that sweet patient who she'd been feeling bad for to a hyper and delusional mad man. She didn't know how to react. Could he be delirious? Or was he just insane?

"I'm… I'm…" John's voice trailed off as the energy that had sent him bouncing off of the walls only moments ago seemed to drain out of him. "I don't know. Never mind."

"All right." Martha said, just going with it. She would have some scans done on his head later. "But how did you know all about me?"

"I'm not sure. I don't remember it now, Doctor Jones." John said.

Martha Jones eyed him suspiciously. "Are you sure?"

He eyed her innocently. "Yes." She believed him.

The exuberance and energy that had filled John only moments before had vanished and not only that, but they had left him entirely drained. If that knowledge and new way of seeing things appearing in his head had made him feel better than ever before, than losing all of that had made him slip into an even worse state than he'd been in previously.

He closed his eyes trying to concentrate and bring himself out of this slump, but all he could see in the blackness of his mind were faces. He saw Doctor Jones' face, the couple he'd met today's faces, Idris' face, a blonde woman's and several others. They were very distracting. Everything in his mind was becoming less clear by the moment.

Everything that had popped into his mind before was gone; his head still hurt though, but now it seemed to be, because it felt empty. He needed to concentrate. He needed to be alone.

There was something about Doctor Martha Jones that he needed to be away from. She was throwing him off, he could feel it. "Do you mind if I have a minute alone, Doctor Jones? I just need a moment to rest, and then I can answer all of your questions."

Dr. Jones could only manage to nod. She walked out of the room and into the hallway stiffly. She needed some time away from the enigma that was John Smith.


	7. Chapter 7: The Waiting Room

**Sorry that it's taken me so long to post anything. I haven't gotten a lot of time to write. Well here's the next chapter. Thanks again for all of the support you guys have been giving. This chapter is a bit different than the other ones, but I thought it gave a little time to calm down before the drama unfolds since chapter 6.**

Sitting in the waiting room was brutal. Few people in the room were speaking; the only ones were an excited, but tired looking young man and the elderly couple, presumably his or his wife's parent, he was speaking to. They were the only people who looked anywhere close to happy. Everyone else sat silently; the rooms only noise came from those three talking and the annoying chatter of a daytime talk show coming from a large wall-mounted TV.

Among those who were waiting silently, Idris sat, she twiddled her thumbs as she stared vacantly down at them, not really seeing them or anything around her. She was still in shock at what had happened. That was the first time she'd seen anyone faint and it was not something that she wanted to see again.

"Oh John…" She mumbled. Every time she closed her eyes, she felt tremendously tired all of a sudden; she could see his body crumpling to the floor. She kept hearing a shattering noise as it did so, even though that hadn't actually happened.

Idris held her head in her hands, feeling as if this was just a nightmare.

Amelia and Rory Williams sat just a few chairs away from her. They too were silent. They held hands tightly, but Amy was visibly disturbed. Her eyes were red and her cheeks were flushed, standing out against her pale skin.

She'd taken a few steps toward him, she'd spoken to him and then he'd just dropped to the ground. Had she done something to him? Had she hurt him in some way?

Her hands ran up and down her jeans anxiously. She hated this incessant waiting! Nothing was happening. She'd been sitting in the waiting room for hours, doing just that waiting. But no information had come through and even though she wasn't a nurse like Rory, she knew that that couldn't mean anything good.

Rory seemed to read her thoughts. "Amy," He said kindly and took her hand lovingly. ", it wasn't your fault. He fainted. It happens. He probably had some kind of disorder. And just because we haven't heard anything, doesn't mean that something's wrong."

"I can't take waiting here, Rory." Amy gulped. "I just can't."

"Why don't you go home then?" Rory asked. "You can, I'll wait."

"No." Amy said stubbornly and sat back in her uncomfortable chair, crossing her arms obstinately.

Rory sighed at his stubborn wife and sat back in his own chair.

Idris watched the couple's dispute. She'd been surprised that the couple had joined her in coming to the hospital. She now knew that the boyfriend was a nurse and was glad that if it had to be any customer that John was to faint in front of it had been him. He'd been excellent at taking care of him. It was his girlfriend that Idris was worried about.

John had actually fainted in front of her and the woman looked visibly shaken and now, from what Idris had overheard, it sounded as if she was blaming herself. Idris would have loved to go over and hug the woman, but she felt it would be odd and awkward to do so, especially, because that would mean she'd have to tell them she'd been listening in on their conversation.

Not that there was much else to do here. After sitting in the waiting room for hours she was beginning to go stir crazy and she figured it had to be just as bad, if not worse, for the couple. Her eyes turned to the hefty woman sitting behind a shield of a glass window, doing paperwork.

One look back at the couple, now sitting awkwardly apart, not facing each other, and she stood up and marched over to the woman. Gathering her strength, she stood, trying to look as imposing as possible, over the woman.

It took the woman a moment to realize that Idris was there and look up from her paperwork. "Can I help..."

Idris cut her off. "Yes. You can. I've been waiting here, along with that couple over there," She pointed to Amy and Rory. ", for hours on end and we've gotten no news! None, whatsoever!"

"Well, miss, you can't rush medicine." The woman said quietly.

"I don't even know if he's alive!" Idris cried, her voice raising to the point where the rest of the waiting room was staring. "Surely he's awake by now, but we haven't heard a thing! We're worried sick you know!"

"Who?"The woman asked sheepishly.

"John Smith!" Idris cried.

"Mam…" Idris glared at her. "Mam… I'll see what I can do."

The woman stepped down from her chair, she was much shorter than she had looked, and waddled away. Idris impatiently tapped her fingers against the glass. She turned back, most likely a bad idea, and saw the couple staring at her. Of course, they both turned away as she looked back, but she could see that they both visibly looked calmer.

She smiled to herself and was about to actually walk over to them, when a voice from behind her said. "Miss." Idris returned to the window, expecting the small woman to be there, but instead she found a surprisingly young and pretty woman in a lab coat, her dark hair tied back in a spiky pony tail, staring at her.

"Yes?" Idris asked, ready to turn her anger on this young woman.

"You inquired about John Smith. I'm his doctor. Dr. Jones." She answered.

"We've been waiting here for HOURS!" Idris howled at the doctor. Dr. Jones didn't answer and Idris now noticed that she seemed on edge and jumpy as if she'd been spooked. In a quieter tone she continued. "You've given us no information if John is even alive!"

"Mr. Smith is alive." Dr. Jones answered formally. "He's awake now and has been so for a few hours. I'm sorry that no one told you. Sometimes there's a lack of communication and information isn't passed down here. Again, I apologize."

Idris was about to retort when she saw the look in the young woman's eyes. Her sparkling brown eyes seemed to be staring straight into Idris, trying to tell her something. Looking deeper into them, Idris could see worry and was that fear?

"What's wrong with him?" Idris asked.

Dr. Jones seemed taken aback by the question, but she answered. "I… We're not sure yet."

"Oh." Idris paused awkwardly. "Can I see him?"

"No." The doctor responded quickly.

"Why not?" Idris gave Dr. Jones a puzzled look.

"He's not up to company."

Idris crossed her arms angrily. "I've been waiting here with no information, wondering if he was even alive, for hours. Then, you tell me he's okay and he's awake, but you won't let me see you."

"I apologized for the lack of information and I'm sorry that you waited here so long, but he's really not up to seeing anyone. If you leave your number here, the hospital can call you with updates or he can call you once he's ready to. What is your relation to Mr. Smith anyway?"

Idris felt her cheeks grow hot as she blushed. "I'm his employer."

"Why are you blushing?" Dr. Jones asked raising an eyebrow.

"I…" Idris trailed off. "Where can I leave my number?"Dr. Jones handed Idris her clipboard and Idris scribbled her name and number down on top. "You better tell that couple over there too. They've also been waiting."

"Thank you and I am really sorry for all the worry this has caused you." Dr. Jones headed off towards Amy and Rory leaving Idris standing alone, silently fuming.


	8. Chapter 8: A Second Opinion

**Deep apologies that, one, it has take me so long to post another chapter (I've been very busy with exams of late) and, second, that this is so short. Initially, I was going to attach this chapter to the next one, but I thought that I ought to post something sooner. Thank you for keeping with the story. I appreciate the reviews and follows! All reviews (good and bad) are appreciated and I'd love suggestions. Thank you again! Enjoy. Also, I know in the show John Lumic is not a doctor, but for my purposes he is.**

Martha took a deep breath, preparing herself, and finally knocked on the door after waiting outside of it for a good ten minutes trying to work up the courage to knock. There was no noise for a moment and Martha was sure that no one was actually in the office. But eventually an old, craggy voice called. "Come in."

She did just that and found herself in the office of her superior, Dr. John Lumic. He sat forward, his elbows resting on his desk. He stared at her with strong dark eyes that seemed to see into her soul.

"What is it Dr. Jones? I'm a busy man, don't waste my time." He spat.

"Well sir, I have a problem." Martha started.

"Get on with it, Jones."

"Yes sir." Martha answered quickly. "I have a problem with a patient of mine, John Smith."

"A problem?" Lumic said absentmindedly as he searched through a drawer at his desk. "What sort of a problem, ?"

"I think he may need mental help." Martha said quietly. She cringed internally waiting for 's answer.

Dr. Lumic stared up at her bright brown eyes, giving her his full attention. "Explain, Dr. Jones."

Martha chose her words carefully. She'd never thought she'd have to tell anyone that she thought a patient was crazy, especially not the intimidating Dr. Lumic. "Mr. Smith was brought here after he fainted at work, then he had a seizure right in front of me. He has no history of seizures, sir. That was odd enough, but…"

"But what?" The old man barked.

"But then he, well, he started telling me all of this information… about me." Martha stared at her feet, scared of the look that she was sure Lumic was giving her. It sounded crazy, what she was saying. "I swear I didn't tell him any of it. He just knew it somehow."

Dr. Lumic was silent. Martha glanced up and found that he didn't look annoyed, serious and grave, but no annoyed. She continued. "Then, he changed. It was like he was a different person. He told me who he was… who he really was."

"And who was that?" Dr. Lumic asked curiously.

"The Doctor." Martha answered. Martha bit her lip. "He told me he was The Doctor, but he didn't tell me what that meant. And then as soon as this revelation had come, it vanished. He was back to normal. Confused, but back to normal."

She awaited Dr. Lumic's reply. He looked surprisingly thoughtful about what she'd said. Martha made it a habit of getting things done herself, partially, because she didn't want to have to go to Dr. Lumic and have him look down on her. However, today he looked intrigued at what she had to say.

"Could be multiple personality disorder?" Martha offered, when no reply came. "Schizophrenia? I really don't know sir, but I think he needs help."

Lumic licked his lips with anticipation. "Let me see this John Smith for myself, Dr. Jones. I will judge if we send this man to the mental health ward."


	9. Chapter 9: Dr Lumic Evaluates

**Sorry it took so long for me to post this chapter. I've been very busy. Sorry. I really want to thank everyone who's stuck with the story and has given me such wonderful feedback. Thank you everyone who followed, favorited, reviewed or just read it. Thank you and I hope you enjoy this chapter.**

John Smith sat up happily in his stiff hospital bed. Some alone time was all he had needed. His head felt clearer than it had in the past few days and he was feeling more cheerful. "Dr. Jones!" He cried gleefully as Martha Jones and an unknown older man walked into his room.

The older man looked familiar, but John couldn't quite put his finger on who he was. Whoever he was, he gave John a bad feeling. John put the feeling aside and went back to his cheerful attitude. It felt too good feeling like this to let it go just, because of some strange feeling.

"Mr. Smith!" Dr. Jones cried in surprise. "What have you done to yourself? Are those tallies?"

Dr. Jones was talking about the many black tally lines which covered not only John's arms, but his face and neck as well. She came closer to her patient and looked his newly inked body up and down.

John looked at his arms as if he had forgotten about the marks. "Oh these!" He said at last and laughed. "I'd forgotten about these. You see Martha," Dr. Jones cringed as he used her first name again. ", I found a pen and made these marks so I don't forget. They'll remind me how many I've seen."

Dr. Jones gave Dr. Lumic an "I told you so" look. She ushered him closer to her patient, who was becoming more animated by the minute.

"You've probably seen them too, Martha, in fact I know you have," John was speaking faster and faster. His mind was racing, but all of his thoughts were perfectly clear. ", but you've forgotten them. Shame. That's what happens when you look away."

"Mr. Smith," Martha interjected. ", this is my colleague Dr. Lumic."

Lumic. The name pulsed through John's brain. But he could not make a connection. The names were coming slower than the knowledge.

Dr. Lumic stepped forward and put his hand out for John to shake. John did so smearing wet ink on Lumic in the process. Lumic grimaced, but didn't say anything.

"What brings you here Doctor?" John asked. "Martha is doing a fine job."

"I don't doubt that." Dr. Lumic said. "However, _Dr. Jones_, asked me to come in and have a look at you."

"Why?" John reached for the pen on his side table, but Martha beat him to it. He scrunched his face up angrily, like a toddler, when she refused to return it. "I'm doing much better." John turned back to Lumic.

"Are you, Mr. Smith?" Lumic asked gravely. "Because you don't look well at all. Dr. Jones informed me that you had a seizure earlier."

"She informed me of that too." John laughed.

"This is no laughing matter, Mr. Smith." Lumic glanced at Martha, signaling her to give him some alone time with Mr. Smith. Martha exited the room without another word.

"Do you know, Dr. Jones?" Dr. Lumic asked blatantly as soon as the door was shut.

"Well…" John started. He could see that Dr. Lumic wanted something from him.

"Do you or do you NOT?" Lumic cried.

"Yes." John answered. He stifled a laugh. Lumic looked as if he was going to explode with rage, but he took a deep breath and took a step closer to John.

Lumic turned away from John. He couldn't believe how infuriating this man was. He actually felt bad for Dr. Jones to have to take care of this man. He'd love to lock him away in the mental ward, but he couldn't tell if this man was actually crazy. He _had_ drawn on himself, but that didn't constitute crazy. If he was to determine if John Smith was bonkers then he'd have to spend more time observing him.

He sighed heavily and turned back to the patient. "Dr. Jones tells me that you… knew things about her. Things she never told you."

"Maybe." John squirmed in his bed.

"You did. Unless, of course, Dr. Jones is lying?" Lumic raised his eyebrow.

"No!" John cried quickly. Lumic could see the concern in the possibly deranged mans eyes. It was a kind of caring that Lumic was surprised to find. It was the kind that Lumic would have thought would come with an old friend.

"Have you known Dr. Jones previously to your time at this hospital? Answer me truthfully, Mr. Smith. I will know if you are lying."

"I don't think so." John said unsurely. "I mean, I get these… memories, I suppose that's what they are. But they don't stay long and I'm not sure that they're real."

Dr. Lumic couldn't help, but closer to this patient now, his curiosity had been peeked. "Why don't you believe that these memories are real?"

John shifted uncomfortably again. His eyes fell to the ground as he spoke. Something was telling him not to speak to Dr. Lumic. Something was telling him to get Lumic out of the room as quickly as possible and to get Martha back in. Should he listen to this voice? He was so unsure of what was real and what was lies.

His face contorted unhappily as he thought. Finally, he answered. "They're crazy. I've always had them, these dreams, where I'm a hero. I travel through space and sometimes I take people with me."

"Can you tell me more?"

"No." John shook his head. "That's all that I remember of them. I write them down as soon as I wake up in the morning, because they fade away so quickly. I used to not think that they were a problem, but now… now I'm not sure. My heads been killing me, I feel sick and my mind is in an all out war."

Dr. Lumic didn't know how to answer. He'd never seen anyone like this before. "Mr. Smith, can you describe to me more what your mind is doing? What's going through it?"

"What's going through it? Now, not much, but then other times… it's like… it's like I can see the universe. I can see all of time. The past, the future, everything, is at my fingertips. All of time and space, everything that ever happened or ever will, it's all in there. It's in my head and the dreams I was telling you about, well, those adventures are there too, just not all of the time. Like right now." John scratched his head. "I don't know where it goes, but sometimes it's there and sometimes it isn't."

"But how did you know those things about Dr. Jones?" Lumic persisted. "Has she been in your dreams?"

"I think she has, but I don't know why I knew all of that information about her. It was like all of the other knowledge, it just came to me." John answered quietly.

"What can you tell about me?" Dr. Lumic asked and John looked up at him for the first time since he'd begun describing himself. Dr. Lumic was an older man, but he had an ambitious energy to him that seemed younger than him. However, it was not a physical energy, but a mental one. John could tell by looking at him that he was smart, but also that he was scheming. There was something far too familiar about him. The information hit John, much like it had with Martha Jones.

"You are John Lumic. You wanted to become a businessman, but you have always been of weak physical health, so you became a doctor. You're dying." The information poured from John's lips, it felt good to let it spill out. Images were popping into his head. Images of silver, humanoid machines. But what connection did they have with Lumic? "Can I have some water, please?"

At hearing John's request, Lumic broke out of the shock that John's words had induced. How did this man know about him? They'd never met before, Lumic was sure of that. Lumic felt the contents of his coat pocket; just what he needed was there.

"Of course. Just a moment." Lumic turned away from John and left the room. Martha was waiting patiently outside the room, leaning against the wall.

"Well?" She asked.

"Stay." Dr. Lumic ordered. Martha gave him an odd look, but did as she was told.

Lumic rushed off to a nursing station and grabbed a glass of water. He quickly checked that no one was watching and removed a small plastic covered capsule from his pocket. He broke it open silently and popped a round pill into the water. It dissolved almost instantly.

"Let's hope this works." He whispered and turned back, returning to John Smith's room.

True to her word, Martha waited outside the door, not even peering into the room. She didn't say a word, rather made an unhappy face at Dr. Lumic's back as he ran into the room.

"Here." Lumic said a little too eagerly, shoving the glass into John's face.

John took the glass, if not only to get Lumic to back off. "Thanks." He mumbled before guzzling the water down. John set the glass down on his side table. He looked visibly paler now. He blinked, his eyes seeming glazed over. "Thank you." He said in no more than a whisper.

"You're welcome. Why don't you rest, while I confer with Dr. Jones?" Lumic said, not waiting for an answer, instead walking out of the patients room, a spring in his step.

"Well?" Martha asked again, more impatiently this time.

"A few hours, Dr. Jones, then I will have made my final judgment." Dr. Lumic walked straight past Martha and began heading back towards his office.


	10. Chapter 10: The Awakening

**I'm sorry about how long this chapter took me to post. Hopefully I'll be able to post more quickly for the next chapter. Thank you to everyone who's stuck with me throughout this story. You have no idea how happy it makes me to know someone's reading it. Again, I'd love to hear from you guys if you have the time. Positive, negative or anything in between. I'd love to hear it all. I hope you enjoy this chapter.**

John Smith woke up with his head throbbing like someone had hit him over the head with a shovel and feeling as if his limbs were made of lead. He tried to open his mouth to say something, but found that all that came out was a kind of gurgle. He couldn't seem to make his mouth form words.

Everything seemed blurry at first, but after a few moments of John laying on another uncomfortable bed trying desperately to at least move his arms, his vision began to clear. He found himself in yet another drab hospital room. All of the furniture, the armchairs, the white blankets and walls, the curtain separating him from his neighbor and everything else was the same as it had been before. But John noticed subtle differences. The light was coming into the room from the opposite side, so John knew that he had been moved to an entirely new room, perhaps a new wing even. Then, there was the difference in materials that had been left out on the table, anything with a remote point, blunt or otherwise, had been removed, leaving it at basically an empty table. Where was he?

Out of nowhere a round eyed nurse popped into the room. With a startled gasp she cried. "Oh, I didn't know you were awake." And left as quickly as she'd appeared.

John tried to yell something after her, but again his mouth wasn't working right and he appeared to just be grunting loudly at her. John sighed internally. The only doctor in this hospital that he had liked was Martha and he had no idea where she was. It felt like a lifetime since he'd seen her. In fact, she hadn't even been the last doctor that he'd seen; the last person he remembered seeing was Dr. Lumic and that was something he was trying to forget.

It was something about Dr. Lumic that gave John the creeps. He didn't know where this feeling came from, call it intuition, he thought, but when Dr. Lumic entered a room, darkness seemed to trail behind him. And, speak of the devil, here came the old man now.

He entered John's room calmly, almost with a spring in his step. His face could not hide the excitement that he obviously felt. As Dr. Lumic moved closer towards John and away from the door, John could see the nurse from before looking in nervously, no there was something more than that, she looked frightened… of him? John didn't remember ever seeing her before in his life. How could she be scared of him? What had he done to cause her such discomfort? Was he just being paranoid?

"Hello Mr. Smith." Dr. Lumic said, commanding John's attention. He sat down at the end of John's bed, which made John feel very uncomfortable, like snakes were slithering up his back. "How do you like your new accommodations?"

John attempted an answer, but still found that he wasn't quite in control of himself. Instead he grunted loudly at the doctor.

"I understand your discomfort, Mr. Smith." Dr. Lumic nodded as if he'd understood everything that was going through John's head from just that little grunt. "But I'm afraid we had to move you. For your safety and the safety of others, I'm afraid."

John just stared at the old man. Maybe his brain was still off, but he hadn't understood what Dr. Lumic was saying. For the safety of others? What did this mean? What had happened? John searched his memories for anything that could have led Dr. Lumic to say this, but he was drawing a blank.

"I don't suppose you'd remember anything about what happened. Would you?" Dr. Lumic asked, with what John could tell was false sincerity. "Not that you can speak."

As Dr. Lumic was speaking John began to feel something in  
his hand, before now his whole body had been buzzing a numb buzz, but now he could feel pain spreading up his hand and into his arm. It hadn't felt this way before. What had he done to it? Did it have something to do with whatever Dr. Lumic was talking about?

Meanwhile, Dr. Martha Jones mind kept going back to the wild look she'd seen in John Smith's eyes, when it should have been counting out the proper amount of pills for a patient. But she couldn't concentrate after what she'd seen.

It had been almost after Dr. Lumic had headed back to his office after spending some quality time with John Smith. Martha understood how imposing and, Martha had to admit, creepy Dr. Lumic could be, so she'd walked into Smith's room to check up on him. She still couldn't decide how she felt about him. He might be crazy, but he wasn't a dangerous kind of crazy and, in fact, he seemed rather sweet.

She'd found John Smith seemingly asleep, which she found to be odd, considering that it had only been about two minutes since Dr. Lumic had left and Martha couldn't figure out how anyone could possibly fall asleep in front of Dr. Lumic. In any case, he looked so angelic while he was sleeping. Any craziness in what he said melted away as he slept so peacefully, his chest gently rising and falling as she slept.

She stepped closer and closer to the sleeping man until she was standing in front of him, looking down on him as he slept. She smiled softly at the sleeping man. She was about to walk away, after all she had other duties that she had to get to, when suddenly Smith's hand came out from under the blanket and grabbed her wrist. He pulled her down with a ferocious strength, that she was amazed that the thin, lanky man even had.

He now appeared fully awake to her and he held her face close to his. She could hear his loud gasping breaths and see a dangerous ferocity in his eyes that was animalistic and just how she'd always pictured insanity.

"Help!" She yelled as she tried to free herself from his iron-like grip. As she tried to do so, both of their arms went flying, thrashing back and forth wildly as the two seemed to do battle. Eventually, they smacked right into John's bedside table and unfortunately for John, his arm took the brunt of it. However, this was lucky for Martha, because as the pain shot up his arm, John released his grasp on her and she was free.

She shot out of the room and into the hallway like a bullet. "Help!" She called again. "This man, he attacked me! I need a sedative now!"

Several nurses and doctors headed towards her. One doctor held a syringe full of a clear liquid, which he'd luckily already had on him. The doctor rushed into the room followed by the others. Martha happened to look up and saw Dr. Lumic standing in front of his office, smiling to himself.

The doctor had given John the sedative, while he'd been held down by the other nurses and doctors. John once again slept peacefully, but now looking down at him Martha saw a very different man, one who's fate had been all but sealed.


	11. Chapter 11: Breakdown

**Just wanted to thank everyone who's been reading. Thanks for your continued support. Enjoy.**

John listened in wide-eyed horror as Dr. Lumic related what had happened to him. Lumic told the story as though it had happened in a far off place, instead of to the man who was right in front of him. Even so, John listened silently, any feeling of wanting to speak was evaporating by the minute. If he didn't speak, he didn't have to become a part of all of this. He didn't have to entertain the thought that he hadn't been in control of himself before and had hurt someone. His worst nightmare, what he had feared all along, did not have to be true, so long as he didn't speak and he ignored it.

But Dr. Lumic wouldn't let this happen. He was now sitting on the edge of John's bed, uncomfortably close. He even rested his old wrinkled hand on John's leg. When he spoke to John he commanded his attention; his dark brown eyes held John's gaze as he spoke. John wanted to look away, to close his eyes, to retreat into his own head, but found that Lumic, or what he was saying, had a power over him and he could not turn away.

Finally, Dr. Lumic finished his narrative. "Can you speak again, Mr. Smith?"

John said nothing. What he had been told was still sinking in. Had he really attacked someone? Especially Martha? It was a lie, he told himself. A clever lie, that was all. But then he felt a pain in his hand and knew that what Dr. Lumic had said was true. He gulped, his mouth suddenly dry.

"Mr. Smith?" Lumic prodded.

"Give me a minute!" John snapped angrily and immediately recoiled at his own fury. He held his head in his hands. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." He kept repeating those two words. Salty, clear tears began streaming down his cheeks. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry."

Dr. Lumic placed his hand on John's shoulder in what was supposed to be a comforting manner, but instead felt like a metal emotionless robot was trying to comfort him. "Relax, Mr. Smith. I understand that you are upset, but I must talk to you."

John shook his head and fell back onto his too soft pillow, the energy to even hold himself up was gone. "I can't." His hands were laid out in front of him tremors running through them intermittently.

Dr. Lumic took John by the shoulders and held him up. As he had done before, he commanded John's tear filled gaze as he spoke. "But you must!"

"What's happening to me?" John sobbed. "What is going on in my head?"

"I don't know, Mr. Smith." Lumic shook his head, but then he faced John again, his eyes filled with determination. "But if you talk to me, if you tell me everything you can, then I can figure it out."

Lumic brought his mouth just a few inches from John's ear and whispered. "And that incident never has to happen again."


	12. Chapter 12: Roommates

**My deepest apologizes for not posting anything in so long. School exams and everything has been crazy. I hope to publish chapters much more frequently now that summer is upon us. Thanks for sticking with me. Enjoy.**

John poured his heart out to Lumic. He told, and explained as best he could, everything that he'd felt and everything that had happened to him. Yet, when he was finished, he did not feel any better. Perhaps it was, because of Dr. Lumic. As soon as John had finished, Lumic had stood up, said thank you and goodbye abruptly and left the room without another word, leaving John feeling as if he'd just made a huge mistake.

"So, how's it going?" John jumped as a voice suddenly came from behind the curtain that he hadn't even realized was to his left.

"What?" Suddenly, the curtain was pulled back and a charming, smiling face appeared. It was a man's face, a bit older than John; he had an excited spark in his eyes and his smile glistened energetically.

"That was some conversation you had." The man said, standing over John. He was in a patient's shirt and pants, which were a little too baggy on him. John peered behind him and found that there was an unkempt bed there. He could've smacked himself for not realizing immediately that this man was his roommate.

John cringed. "You heard that?"

"Only part of it. Just the end really, I was asleep before that." The man shrugged. In one energetic hop he was nearly on top of John. "I'm Captain Jack Harkness."

"Umm… hi." John said, not really knowing what to make of his roommate, after all, he was in the mental ward of a hospital (then again, so was John).

The man stuck out his hand and shook John's so hard that John was sure it would come off. Letting go, he quickly looked behind him, as if someone might be listening, and then whispered to John. "I wouldn't trust Dr. Lumic if I was you."

Captain Jack seemed to have read John's thoughts. "Why?" John asked curiously.

"He's a bit off, if you ask me. He probably deserves to be here more than you or me." The man laughed heartily.

"Why are you here?" John asked, surprised at his own audacity. "God, I'm sorry, that was rude."

Jack shook his head. "It's okay. I'm not here, because I'm crazy or anything."

"Then, why are you here?" John couldn't help but ask, he couldn't think of another reason for being in a mental ward.

The other man smiled. "My family thinks I'm crazy." He saw the look on John's face change. "I know how that sounds, but honestly I'm not."

John shrugged, who was he to judge. "Why do they think you're crazy?"

Captain Jack sat down on John's bed, John moved his legs just in time to prevent them from being crushed. After getting comfortable, Jack answered. "They don't believe me. They don't believe that I can't die."

John didn't know what to say, that sounded well, crazy. Jack didn't seem like mad psycho, though. If anything, John thought, he was delusional not dangerous. Of course, John hadn't thought he was dangerous either.

His thoughts were interrupted by Jack's continuing narrative. "I live in America, but my family lives here. I was visiting them; I met them here in London." Jack's eyes were not in the present, it was like he was reliving his past. "We were crossing the street. My little sister ran ahead," He laughed, remembering. ", she's a cute kid, but a little thoughtless. She ran right into the street and there was a car coming."

"You saved her." John surmised.

John smiled at the recognition of his deed. "I did what anyone would have done. I got her out of the way and nearly got hit in the process. After everyone congratulated me and was telling me how brave it was of me to risk my own life… I told them… I told them…"

His warm, energetic attitude was faltering. This was clearly a hard thing for him to talk about. John didn't envy him, he couldn't imagine what it must be like for your own family to have you institutionalized.

Even so, Jack continued. "I told them that I couldn't die. That I hadn't been at any risk." Jack shook his head. "They didn't come out and call me crazy right then and there, but after that I could tell they were looking at me differently. Examining every little thing I did, noticing those little risks that I would take that a regular person wouldn't. Then, just one month after the incident, they had me sent here."

"I'm so sorry." Was all John could think to say.

It was like Jack hadn't even heard him. "That's when I met Dr. Lumic. He looked at me, examined me, but not like he was a doctor doing a checkup, but like he wanted to dissect me, to find out what made me tick." Jack shuddered involuntarily. "He doesn't even work in the psych ward, mostly. He only comes when he finds someone interesting."

John gulped. "Like you? Or me?"

He had noticed Dr. Lumic's fascination with him, but had only thought that it had to do with doctoral concern. However, after spilling his guts to the doctor, he had felt that Lumic's fascination wasn't with his well-being, but with something else.

Jack nodded. "So, I've been here since. Lumic visits sometimes and I tell him everything's just fine, but I don't think he buys it. They send me to therapy sometimes. I suppose they'll do the same with you."

"I don't think so." John shook his head and pulled himself up in bed. "I'm dangerous."

"If you were dangerous I wouldn't be talking with you right now." Jack snorted. John looked unconvinced. "Honestly, have you seen yourself? You're lanky, a little gawky and you look like you've been through hell. No, I don't think you're dangerous."

"No. Didn't you hear Dr. Lumic's story? I attacked Martha… um, Doctor Jones. Normal people, non-crazy people, don't do that." John cried angrily.

Jack folded his arms and rolled his eyes. "Didn't I just go on for like five minutes telling you how untrustworthy and creepy Lumic was? Well didn't I? Get somebody else's side of the story. Maybe, this Doctor Jones' side."

John stared down at his hands, which he was fidgeting with. "I know it's true. I can't tell you why, but I know it's true. My arm hurts for one, but even more than that. I can feel it; I feel guilty, like I know I hurt someone, terrified them, even though I don't remember doing it."

Jack was silent, he couldn't argue with that. Finally, he responded. "You seem like a good guy. Don't be hard on yourself like that, it'll only make things worse."

All John wanted to do was to crawl under his blanket and stay there. Instead, he nodded stiffly. When he looked up again, Jack had laid back down on his own bed. He seemed comfortable there, like he'd figured out the right way to sleep so that his back didn't hurt in the morning. John wondered how long he'd been here.

He asked just that. "How long have you been here?"

Jack looked up, his youthful, jovial face, suddenly serious. "Eleven months."


	13. Chapter 13: A Special Visitor

**Sorry about taking so long to update. Now that it's summer I should have more time to write. Thanks for continuing to read my story. I'm actually pretty proud of this chapter, so let me know what you think (good or bad).**

Eleven months in this sterile environment. Eleven months being poked and prodded by therapists and doctors. Eleven months being told that what was going on in your head wasn't real. Jack Harkness may have been putting on a brave face, but since he'd told John just how long he'd been in the psych ward, John could see a sadness and frustration behind his roommate's eyes. Although, Jack was an energetic, happy fellow, he obviously loathed his current accommodations and was only putting up with them for the time being.

Jack was allowed to come and go as he pleased, whereas (just as John had guessed) he was forced to remain in his room. Although, John was not too upset about this, thinking that this was for the best, Jack seemed to have taken John's sentence personally. Whenever he left the room, leaving John in the care of either Dr. Lumic or some nurse, he would look back at John, a look of pity in his eyes. He would then scowl at the medical professional by John's bed and then walk out of the room in disgust.

When it was Dr. Lumic who stayed with John, John would try not to meet the man's gaze, instead he'd give the doctor one word answers and concentrate on twiddling his thumbs. He would look up at the door every few minutes, hoping that Jack would return or a nurse would appear, saying that it was time for him to rest or that he needed to have some tests run.

Sitting with one of the nurses wasn't so bad, John thought. They would usually run some tests, but more often than not, they'd ask him questions about how he was feeling, what thoughts had entered his mind recently, had he slept alright and other questions like that. Although, John knew that they were diagnosing him, he felt that these nurses actually cared about him. He tried to act as kind as he could to them, realizing just how hard it must be to work around the mentally ill all day.

He often worried that he might have another incident, like the one with Dr. Jones, but in these nurses presence his mind never began to slip nor did he have any headaches. Soon, the threat that he felt he posed seemed to diminish. The nurses always did seem a little nervous to John, a little too eager for their time with John to end. He wasn't saddened by this, he understood.

Then, one day Martha Jones walked into his room. Jack had just left and John had prepared himself for a nurse to babysit him, but he was unprepared for this. Martha walked in shyly.

"What are you doing here?" John asked, his voice cracking.

"Hi." Was all Martha said, waving shyly at him.

"You shouldn't be here. Please leave. Please leave!" John begged. He felt his throat start to contract as tears welled up in his eyes. He couldn't stop them. Guilt washed over him like a tidal wave.

"No." Martha said defiantly. "I've got to talk to you."

"You can't trust me. I can't even trust myself." Jon pleaded with her.

"Mr. Smith, I don't think you are a danger to anyone, especially me. But I do think that you might be in danger." Martha stepped closer to his bed.

"I'll scream!" He threatened. "Soon all of the doctors and nurses in the entire ward will be here!"

Martha kept walking closer to him. He squirmed as far back in his bed as he could, but it was no use. Soon, Martha was beside him.

She spoke softly to him. "I don't know if there's anything to this, but…" She hesitated, she didn't like talking bad about a colleague, not to mention talking to a patient about this, but John looked so terrified, so guilty that she realized that this was the right thing to do. This poor man was going through something traumatic, something that he didn't understand and neither did any of the doctors. She could see it having an effect on him; there were dark circles under his terrified eyes, as if at any minute he thought that something was going to jump out at him. His hands were shaking nervously and she could see his left foot twitch under the blanket every so often.

", but I'm suspicious of Dr. Lumic." The look on John's face told her everything. "And you are too? Oh, thank god. I thought I was going crazy." John winced. "Sorry, poor choice of words."

"It's not that _I'm_ suspicious of Dr. Lumic, but my roommate is." John answered hesitantly.

"Who's your roommate?" Martha asked curiously.

"Captain Jack Harkness."

"Oh." Martha decided to ignore this turn of events for now. She knew Harkness, although only vaguely, and really didn't want him involved. He had enough issues on his own.

"Lumic's been visiting you a lot lately, right?" John nodded. "Before you showed up he rarely came down here, if at all. Now I see him in his office when he's not down here. He's always taking notes or writing up reports and I thought that was all well and good, until I paid him a visit one day. I didn't schedule a meeting or anything, so he was surprised to see me and didn't have time to put his things away. So as we talked I could see what he'd been doing. He was looking at your test results, Mr. Smith. And your brain scans. How many tests has he done on you? It looked like hundreds, from all of the papers he had."

"I don't understand." John said.

"Neither do I." Martha agreed. "But I tried to ask some of the doctors and nurses who work in this ward about you. Apparently, they're all scared of you, but have barely ever talked to you. Lumic's been telling them things. One doctor even asked me how my arm had healed so quickly, considering that you'd broken it. Lumic's purposely getting them afraid of you, Mr. Smith. I don't know why he has such an interest in you."

John didn't know what to think. On one hand, Lumic did seem to be acting oddly, but, on the other hand, he had attacked Martha. If anyone was to blame for that it was him, he had done that and only him.

"I attacked you." He said plainly.

Martha rolled her eyes. "I'm fine see. " She gestured to her body, which seemed to be perfectly fine. "I don't think it was your fault, Mr. Smith. I really do think that something is up."

"I don't know. Dr. Lumic does visit me, but nothing bad has happened. Sometimes he does seem impatient for something spectacular to happen, though. I don't know what the nurses think of me, I've never asked them and I'm not allowed out of this room. I'm not…"

"Wait!" Martha cried angrily. "He hasn't let you leave the room. Not at all? I've got to fix that! I'll put in a recommendation to the head of the psych ward. I'll say that I think group therapy will help you."

John wasn't so sure that this was a good idea and he said so. "I'm dangerous and crazy. Dangerous and crazy is a bad combination."

"John Smith, "Martha said angrily. ", I don't know if you are crazy, but you are not dangerous and you are one of the kindest and nicest people that I've ever met. I'm sorry that I didn't see that before. Mr. Smith please don't be too hard on yourself. If it makes you feel any better, I forgive you."

Looking into Martha's eyes, John could see that what Martha Jones said was what she believed. John smiled heartily; he hadn't done that in a very long time.

"Thank you, Martha." John said happily. "You've taken care of me better than any doctor I've ever known."


	14. Chapter 14: Two Lives

The days that followed John's meeting with Martha were much less exciting. His routine was more or less the same and he still hadn't gotten clearance from the director to leave his room. He was beginning to go a bit stir crazy.

It was often that when Jack walked in from traipsing about the ward that he'd find John pacing back and forth across the length of the room. Jack knew that there was nothing he could say that would make John feel better. The only thing that would help him was to get him out of this room.

So, one day Jack went up to John as he was pacing and grabbed him by the shoulders, stopping him in his tracks. "We've got to get you out of here." He said.

"I'm not allowed." John answered, trying to squirm his way out of Jack's grasp.

"I'll sneak you out." Jack suggested. "This isn't healthy, John. You need to get out of here. You can't spend your life in a box of a room."

"I won't be spending my entire life in here." John retorted, knowing that if he was caught sneaking out then it would just add to his problems. "No. Thank you, Jack, but I'm going to wait. Martha promised to help."

"Yeah," Jack said. ", but who's more powerful? Dr. Lumic or Dr. Jones?"

But, in the end, John had been right. A day later, a nurse entered the room. Luckily, John wasn't pacing at that time. The nurse's eyes crawled across the entire room, scrutinizing every detail of it, then they landed on John. They looked him up and down, as if checking to be sure that he was the right person. Then, in a voice that suggested that the nurse really didn't want to tell John this, he said. "I've got a message from the director. He says you are free to leave your room, provided you stay within this wing and are accompanied by another person at all times. Do you understand?"

"Yes. Completely." John said, already standing up. He was eager to leave the room that had become his entire world for so long that he'd lost track of the time.

"Good. I'll be on my way then."

The nurse turned to leave, but John cried out. "Can't I go out with you now?"

The nurse kept walking as if he hadn't heard John. John's face fell. The excitement that had just rushed into him, pushing away weeks (or so he assumed) of the boredom and stagnancy that had invaded his mind, was gone in an instant when he realized that everyone was still going to look at him like he was a savage.

Maybe he was, he started to think, but then he remembered Martha's words. He smiled as he thought of them. He couldn't remember ever hearing someone say something like that to him. He pictured Martha's face in his mind. She was a good person, he knew that, and yet so familiar.

Oh no, he thought, not this again. But he couldn't stop it. Images went rapid fire through his mind. He was with Martha in a hospital… on the moon? Then the scene changed, was that Shakespeare? With another change he saw a futuristic city with many cars and traffic and cat people?

Suddenly, John found himself back in the hospital room, back in real life He was breathing deeply and rapidly, trying to take in as much air as he could. He had no idea why he was short of breath. Sweat was beginning to form on his brow, which he wiped away with his arm. He fell back down onto his bed and tried to catch his breath.

John felt his heartbeat, it was elevated. Once again, for a moment he thought that he heard two hearts beating in his chest. "Stop!" He yelled in anguish. "Please!"

"But we need the Doctor!" A voice cried inside his head, it was Martha's.

"Well I'm not him!" John yelled back. "The Doctor is a dream! I am real!"

Tears were streaming down his face. He couldn't stop them. It felt stupid to cry. There were voices in his head and he was listening to them, acting like what they said meant anything. John held his head in his hands.

"Leave me alone!" He sobbed.

"Well if that's how you feel." Jack's voice said, feigning offense.

"Jack!" John cried and looked up to find the tall, handsome man standing nearly over him.

"Okay. You're going to have to tell me what happened, because I'm lost."

"Nothing." John said, wiping away the tears that clung to his face. "I… I just got the news that I'm free to leave the room."

"That's great." Jack said happily. "Looks like Dr. Jones came through for you after all."

"Yeah, I just have to stay in this wing and have somebody with me at all times."

"Okay, that puts a damper on things just a little bit, but it can be done." Jack said rubbing his hands together in anticipation. "Oh, I'm going to have so much fun with you now."

"How much fun can you have in a mental ward?" John laughed, feeling better now that Jack had returned.

Jack smiled mischievously. "You'd be surprised." Jack took a seat on his bed and grabbed a paper from his nightstand.

John wondered if he should tell Jack what had happened. He felt like Jack would understand. Aside from Martha, Jack was the kindest person John had met during all of this. But there was something holding John back from talking to Jack. Thinking about it, he realized that it was that he really didn't want Jack to think he was crazy. Even if Jack was crazy.

"Jack?" John asked seriously considering telling him.

"There's a therapy session this evening!" Jack exclaimed, jumping to attention excitedly. He was bursting with energy. "Let's get you out of this drab room and out into the world!"

John thought for a moment. "Okay." He said unsurely. He had some reluctance to join a group, primarily, because he was afraid of a relapse. Anything seemed to set him off and even if he didn't become violent, he would still here those voices in his head.

Those were the most painful. They reminded him of a life that he couldn't possibly have. Yet it was trying to assert itself, to ruin the life that he had, one that had actually been looking up. The voices turned him into something that he was not, they made him feel like he was just a story. Not a person. Like the roles were reversed and the Doctor was real and he was the dream. This wasn't true, that's what he kept telling himself that, but he was afraid that one day he might not believe this. That one day he'd fade away and only the Doctor would be left.

As much as he admired the Doctor, he was just a story. He wasn't real and John knew that the Doctor couldn't exist in this world. He may be the Earth's protector, but he could never have a life or a love like John could. John did not want to be the Doctor, but it seemed like he was losing the ability to choose.

"Don't give me that!" Jack cried, pulling John out of bed and up onto unsure feet. "You want to get out of here. I know you do!" He teased.

John couldn't help but smile. "All right." He said his mood improving greatly.

"Okay. Go freshen up or something and we'll head out now." Jack pushed him towards the bathroom.

"Freshen up for a therapy group?" John asked as he fell into the bathroom.

Using the miniscule sink, John washed his face and brushed his teeth. He combed his hair, so that his tangled mass of hair was now back in its signature flop. Coming out of the bathroom, he didn't quite look like a new man, but certainly one that had been rejuvenated.


	15. Chapter 15: A Whole New World

**My apologies for not posting sooner. I have some ideas for incorporating canon characters soon, but if anyone has any ideas feel free to tell me. As always, reviews are appreciated. And thank you for reading. **

"How do I look?" John asked a smiling Jack Harkness as he exited the bathroom.

Jack smiled, the sudden change in his roommate was astounding. John actually looked happy, nervous, but happy. "You look great." Jack answered, nodding approvingly at John as he stepped forward in his hospital-regulation pants and shirt. "Shall we?"

John smiled nervously and nodded. Jack led the way as they entered the hallway.

He followed closely behind Jack, not wanting to get lost in the maze of passageways, but it wasn't easy to keep up. John found himself distracted by every little thing, turning from right to left and back again several times in a matter of seconds. There was so much to see here after being cooped up in his small room.

Hundreds of things were going on at once, each one seemed exciting to John. Three nurses rushed by with carts of assorted medicines and pills. Two men in hospital garments similar to John's walked by the two roommates, eyeing them distrustfully. John turned his head quickly as they passed and found himself staring at a female patient, a bit older than him, sitting in a chair on the side of the hallway. A nurse was speaking to her and holding her hands as if to make her look at her and listen.

John's excitement and happy attitude melted away. The woman's face clearly showed that not a word of what the nurse was saying was getting through to her. Her face remained happily ignorant. The nurse put her hand on the woman's arm, but the woman shrugged her off. John watched, feeling a sinking feeling in his stomach, as the nurse tried to get the woman's attention.

But it was no use. The woman was distracted by something else; she turned around one hundred and eighty degrees and was now staring off into space. John tried to follow her gaze, but there was nothing there. Whatever the woman was looking at she was the only one who could see it. John shuddered, wondering how many times he'd done that.

The nurse threw up her arms in defeat and stood up. John found himself utterly confused as the nurse turned and shook her head sadly at someone standing further down the hall behind John. John turned his head and saw a middle-aged man with salt and pepper hair standing down at the next hallway intersection. One hand was in his pocket; the other rested on the shoulder of a small girl in a pink jacket. She couldn't have been more than ten. Her hair was a shock of red and her face was covered with freckles… just like the woman in the chair.

John gulped and turned away quickly. Jack had nearly made it down the hall by now and John rushed to catch up with him. He was happy to look away. He felt like he was intruding on something personal, but more than that he felt like that could so easily be him in the chair, living in his own fantasy world, entirely unaware of everyone that he loved. No matter how much he loved them.

The smile on Jack's face vanished as he saw the look of sadness on John's face. "What's wrong?" Jack asked, his face creased with lines of worry.

John opened his mouth to say something, but thought better of it. He wanted to tell John exactly how he felt, but something was holding him back. Jack had probably felt these exact same things before, John realized. This was nothing new to him and that's not who John wanted to tell his problems to. He felt bad about being so selfish, but he just wanted to talk to someone who didn't know what it felt like to see people go mad and to wonder if you were next. He wanted to talk to someone who would nod and feel bad for him, having only been able to imagine the pain he was going through. That's who he wanted to talk to.

As if Jack was reading his mind, he said. "This place can be pretty rough. It's hard to see all of these people, and they are predominantly good people, go downhill."

"Yeah." Was all John could muster.

Jack was silent as he led John towards a door at the end of the hallway. "This is the rec room. Don't look so frightened. Nobody's going to judge you here. You can just speak your mind."


	16. Ch16: A Step Forward, A Step Backward

**Sorry I haven't posted anything in a while. I can't thank everyone who's been reading enough. Thank you so much.**

John had no idea what a therapy session was supposed to be like. He imagined a Freudian looking doctor sitting in a comfortable armchair stroking his beard as the patients poured their hearts out to him from their seats on a long couch. Well, you can imagine John's surprise when he entered the rec room and found it to be a large room full of bookshelves and long tables covered with tabletop games like foosball and ping pong. Folding chairs that looked older than John had been placed in a circle in the center of the room. Most of them had been taken already.

The patients came in all shapes and sizes. There were a few old men, who looked like they had no idea where they were, sitting down all in a row. On the opposite side of the room were some young people, barely older than John, having a heated discussion. It looked like it might get violent when a doctor burst into the room.

"Attention!" He called in the voice of an ex-soldier. He was a tall man with a confident bearing and he immediately caught the attention of even the most delirious of the patients. "Hello. I am Dr. Canter and I'll be running this therapy session. Take a seat!"

The patients did just that, falling into old, well-established cliques. At least, Jack stuck by John and the two took seats next to each other. Even so, John felt out of place. It didn't help that everyone was staring at him. They'd all noticed that he was new. Jack whispered some encouraging words into John's ear as the doctor prepared to start. Even so, John felt like he'd entered a whole new world and had interrupted it.

The staring lessened as the session went on, but the woman sitting across from him was staring relentlessly. John tried to look everywhere else, but at her, but he found his eyes always wandering back to her pretty face. His eyes would flick up at her, waiting to see if she was still staring at him, which of course she was, and their eyes would lock. For a few seconds, before John would get squeamish and suddenly jerk his head so that he was looking at something else, anything else, they just stared at each other.

John couldn't quite put his finger on it, but she looked familiar, this woman. And from the way she was looking at him, he was sure that she was thinking the same. Her rich chocolate brown eyes bore into him, like they were trying desperately to see through him, to figure out who he was.

At first she didn't notice that he'd realized she was staring at him, but once she had noticed she gave him a cute, almost flirty smile. He gave her an awkward smile back and looked off in some other direction.

He didn't speak during the entire session and no one asked him to. He was just glad when it was over. Quickly he stood up and was ready to escape back to his room when Jack stopped him.

"What are you doing?" Jack asked.

"Leaving." John answered as he tried to push past his roommate, but Jack, being bigger and stronger than John, held him back and turned him around so that he was facing the girl from before.

"You're going to leave without saying goodbye to her?" Jack asked smiling.

"I don't even know her." John sighed.

"Then get to." Jack said and pushed John forwards.

John fell forward, nearly landing on the poor girl. Instead he landed on his knees in front of her. Slowly, he looked up. His eyes followed her red dress up until he met her eyes, just as energetic and luscious as before. She smiled at him, a cute smile that fit her round face.

"Hello." She smiled, her accent distinctly northern.

"I'm sorry." He said picking himself up and turning around for just a moment to give Jack an angry look. Jack just smiled and held back a laugh.

"It's fine." She shrugged. "So, I've never seen you at this therapy session before. What's your name?"

"My name?" John asked awkwardly. "I'm… I'm John. John Smith."

"Well, hello there John Smith." She put out her hand for him to shake. "I'm Clara Oswald."

He took he hand and shook it, still feeling like he'd met her before. _Oswin._ The name jumped into his head without any warning. He brushed it off, now was not the time to be going loony.

"Nice to meet you." He answered. "I don't mean to be rude, but I feel like I've met you before. You look very familiar."

The smile on her face suddenly disappeared. The energetic look in her eyes was replaced by an unmistakable sadness. "Well, you might have seen someone who looks like me, but it wasn't me."

"Oh." He said, unsure of what to do next.

"I had two sisters; we were identical triplets." She spoke quietly, the words catching in her throat. "They… they, um, died."

"Oh god!" John could've smacked himself in the head. "I'm so, so sorry! I had no idea! I'm so sorry. I really…"

"It's okay." She said cutting his rambling off. "You didn't know. And it happened a while ago."

"That doesn't mean it doesn't still hurt." He said.

"You have no idea." She said looking out into the space beyond his head.

John could tell she was lost in some memory. The confident, almost flirty girl he'd seen staring at him across the room now seemed lost and broken. He didn't know what to do, he had little experience with women, especially comforting them.

"Would you… would you like to play foosball or something?" He asked gently.

She snapped back into reality. "No, thanks. I'm sorry." She shook her head, like she was waking herself up from a dream. "It's just after they died, things changed for me. I can't really explain it. They just did," She pointed to her head. ", up here."

"I know the feeling." John said smiling half-heartedly.

"Oh yeah." She said crossing her arms and smiling mischievously. "You think you're crazier than me, John Smith?"

John smiled, a single laugh escaping his lips. She was funny, he liked her. "Oh I know I'm crazier than you, Clara Oswald."

"Well then we'll just have to see about that." She laughed.

He actually felt happy. It had been a long time since he'd felt genuinely happy. A dull feeling had been all he'd been able to muster mostly while trapped in his room. Jack had been right, escaping that box was just what he'd needed.

Then he noticed the nurses who patrolled the room staring at him. They watched him with suspicious eyes as if at any moment he might jump on Clara and try to strangle her. Their hands were tense, ready to intervene at any moment.

The smile that had played happily on his lips disappeared, again he was reminded of the lunatic that everyone thought he was. That he thought he might be too.

"I should go." He said quietly. Sadly.

Clara looked confused. "Why?"

"I just have some things to take care of." He lied and it broke his heart to leave. What would she think of him now?

But he couldn't stay. Not with everyone watching him. Not with the dull pain in the back of his head suddenly re-emerging. No, he still didn't trust himself, despite what Martha had said to him.

"Okay." Clara answered cautiously. "Well, will you be back tomorrow? There's no therapy session, but we could play that foosball game, if you like."

He nodded, not knowing if he'd actually make the appearance.

He turned and left. Jack, who was not so surreptitiously standing in a corner pretending to read a book, gave him a wide-eyed confused look and followed him out. Once they were in the hallway, the rec room doors banging as they swung shut, Jack stopped him, put his hands on John's shoulders and asked urgently. "What the hell are you doing?"

"I can't do it." John answered, shaking his head. "I can't talk to her like this. Not with all of the nurses in there watching me, looking at me like I'm a ticking time bomb."

Jack looked straight into John's eyes. He looked at him like he was an old friend. Then, he said seriously. "Then prove them wrong."

"Not today." John muttered and broke free from Jack's grip. He turned and hurried off towards the safety of his room, his head was already starting to hurt.


	17. Chapter 17: Regeneration

**Hello and thank you all for your support and suggestions! I hope you enjoy.**

John flopped down on his bed, not even bothering to close the door. He held his head in his hands, pushing them into his skull, willing the pain to stop. "Shut up! Shut up!" His body was wracked with pain. His entire body was shaking.

_Clara. Rory. Amy. Martha. Jack._ The names swirled around in his brain, stinging him. Tears streamed down his cheeks. _Oh god! Please kill me now!_

The pain was unbearable. It felt like someone was dumping a truck full of boulders onto his head. Memories that felt like they should be dreams burst into view. His other life, his imaginary life, was coming to the forefront and John felt helpless to stop it.

"You're not real! It's all a dream! It's all in my head!" John cried as he sucked in huge breaths of air. At least he knew it was all in his head, but he feared the moment when he wouldn't know the difference between wild fantasy and reality.

"I am John Smith." He said repeatedly to himself. He stood up stiffly, his legs throbbed with burning pain, and he began to pace back and forth as quickly as he could. "I am John Smith. I am John Smith."

The sentence gave him some comfort. He knew who he was and that wasn't going to change. He had to hold onto this. But he could hear something in his head. What was it? A banging? A knocking? Yes, a knocking.

Knock… knock… knock…

"No!" John screamed. "No! I don't want to go!"

Knock.

The pounding in John's head increased tenfold. He cried out, but that did nothing to stop the pain. It felt like everything was changing. Like every cell in his body was changing. It was almost like dying, except not quite, because he felt that something, someone, new was coming. He knew what this was called, deep in the back of his head. Reincarnation? No. Regeneration.

John looked down at his hands. A strange, almost flame-like orange glow surrounded them, so that he could barely see them. At least, that's what he thought was happening. He could feel the regeneration process taking effect.

John Smith took a back seat. His personality moved easily, like it wasn't meant to be the driving force of his body. It slipped back, scurrying away like a frightened mouse, back deep into his subconscious. And for a split second there was nothing in John's mind. It was literally a blank.

But that didn't last for long. Another personality ran forward and took hold of John's body like it was meant to be there. Like it had waited a long, long time to be there. Like it had fought long and hard to get out. And finally it had.

A spasm shot up John's spine. He bent down, his head touching his chest, for just a second before he through his head back… and laughed. Suddenly, his head was clear. Well, not clear, but somehow everything seemed to fit. Lost memories, people, places, oh the most crazy and unimaginable of places, they'd all found a place. It was like he'd gotten a new head, one that fit better.

The strange glowing fire, that John now somehow knew was just regenerative energy and nothing to be worried about, had disappeared. John Smith was gone. He'd regenerated.

The new man who had his face looked down at his long, gangly legs and cried delightedly. "Legs! I've still got legs. Good." He proceeded to tug on his arms, nose, chin and hair, before deciding that this body was perfectly alright.

Then with a sudden zap, more memories filled his head. Clara. Amy. Rory. River. The Silence. Weeping angels. Spoonheads. And more. All the loose bits and bobs were filled in.

The new man smiled to himself. He stretched his arms and legs. Now, if only he could figure out where he was. Well, he thought, it seemed to be a hospital, but why was he in a hospital.

"John?" A horrified voice asked, perhaps more quietly than she'd meant to. The man who looked like John Smith spun around and found Dr. Martha Jones standing her mouth hanging wide open in his doorway.

He shook his head, smiled charmingly and said. "No. Not John Smith. Hello, I'm the Doctor."


	18. Chapter 18: Gotta Run

Martha took a cautious step forward. Oh god, what had happened? Things had been getting better, hadn't they? Was he really just as crazy as everyone had been saying, as everyone had kept trying to tell her?

No, she didn't believe it. Lumic! It had to be him; he must have done something to John. She just had to find out what.

"John, I need you to sit down." Martha said stepping forward cautiously. If Lumic had gotten to him, then there was no telling what he might do.

The man who she thought was John Smith just smiled and straightened a non-existent bowtie. Martha couldn't help but be astounded at the sudden change that had come over John. He seemed entirely different. Gone was the odd, awkward and skittish, but sweet man. He'd been replaced by this lanky, brave, adventurous (she could tell just by looking at him) and… alien man.

"Martha Jones!" The Doctor cried happily. "How are you? Still with Mickey? Gosh I hope not. You work here now." He spun around taking the room in in an instant. "Really? Here. I think you can do better, Martha."

Martha had no idea how to respond to that.

The Doctor cocked his head and stared at her, scrunching his face in confusion. "Ahh!" He cried, nearly giving Martha a heart attack. "New face! You haven't seen my new face yet, have you Martha? Well I must say it's quite a good face. It's gotten me through some hard times."

"John…" Martha started, but the Doctor interrupted her.

"No, Martha, like I told you, I'm the Doctor." He gave himself a soft pat on each cheek. "See, just a new face."

Martha came closer, against all the thoughts in her head that were telling her to get a doctor who specialized in mental illness, and took both of John's hands. She sat him down on his bed, to which he gave her a confused look.

"Okay… Doctor," She said trying out the new name. ", you've got to listen to me. Okay?" He nodded. "Good, because this isn't you."

He smiled, like he'd heard it before. "Martha, regeneration is a hard concept for humans, I know, but you've got to believe me. I'm still the Doctor."

Martha took a deep breath and said. "That's the thing. You weren't the Doctor before. You were John Smith."

"John Smith." The Doctor repeated like he was tasting the name, like he'd heard it before, but that it had never meant anything to him. He seemed to be thinking and Martha thought for a moment that maybe he had snapped out of it, but then he suddenly popped up back onto his feet. In a burst of energy, he was running out of the room. "Clara!" He was calling as he ran into the hallway. "Sorry, Martha! I've got to find, Clara."

Martha ran to the door just in time to see John bump into a very surprised Jack Harkness halfway down the hall. "Oh god." She sighed throwing her head back wearily and ran down the hallway after him.

"Whoa! Where are you going?" Jack Harkness laughed, somewhat nervously. "Weren't you just stalking back to our room? And might I say you were looking pretty darn angsty."

"Jack!" The Doctor cried and threw his arms around his surprised roommate. "It's been forever hasn't it. Well, not quite forever, at least not for me. Now for you, well I don't know how long it's been for you, but for me it's been about…"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Jack pulled the Doctor off of him and held him at arm's length. "First of all, it's only been like two minutes. Second, what the hell is up with you? You seem… different."

The Doctor laughed, the kind of laugh that came from someone who knows so much more than the person they're talking to. "Of course I'm different! I've regenerated!"

Jack gave him a blank look and the Doctor couldn't help, but feel that he was the one missing something. After all, hadn't Martha given him the exact same confused stare?

"You know," He explained. ", regeneration? I change my face."

"Of course!" Jack exclaimed, playing along. He'd been here long enough to know when you should just go with someone's crazy delusions. "Well Doctor, I've got important business to take care of, so I'll just be on my way."

His roommate seemed pleased with that and smiled warmly at him. "Right. Get back to Torchwood, I see. Important stuff to be done. Well, gotta run! Oh, Jack I'll have to introduce you to Clara one day. As long as you, well, control yourself."

And with that the man formally known as John Smith ran off, leaving Captain Jack Harkness scratching his head, half confused and half interested.

He was about to turn around and head back to his room, when out of nowhere Dr. Martha Jones came crashing into him. "Whoa!" He said, catching Martha just before she fell.

"Right, thanks Harkness." She said quickly before squirming out of his arms and running into the rec room after John.

Jack Harkness smiled to himself. "Well, it's going to be another one of those days, isn't it." He sighed, realizing that he'd never be able to just go back to his room now. His curiosity having gotten the better of him, he followed Dr. Jones into the rec room after the possibly totally delusional John Smith.


End file.
